Minnie lay on her back luxuriously, not ready for being awake. It was not fully morning yet, for the light in her eyelids was not quite strong enough to be the sun full over the horizon, and she’d dreamt so very well. She found she did so more, now, in Abura. It was hard to say why: perhaps the difference in the air, or simply the distance for the sources of her childhood terrors. Perhaps it was the sound of breathing in the room - she had half-roused, now and then, to hear it change, as Semiyr rolled over or changed positions, and for an instant, had though it was Gypa. It was not, and in a sense it was pleasant that it wasn’t.
She half opened a lid lazily, to see the shadow of Semiyr gliding softly back and forth in the room. Dressing probably. She reached a hand up to tuck a stray hair that tickled her cheek back into her short braid. She half stretched, feeling the sweaty crevices of her self unstick form each other with a pleasing languor, and rolled sideways, into the warm hollow between her pillows and Semiyr’s. The room smelled pleasantly of unwashed morning, and kelp tea.
Kelp tea?
She wrinkled her brow - that could not be right, but there it was kelp tea, and what’s more… a warm smell, oily and sour. She opened her eyes again, and pushed to sitting.
“I near thought I smelled kelp fritter—“
She stopped, abruptly. Semiyr was working a sparse brush through her wild hair, and turned with a half-smile. And there, on Minnie’s desk, was a plate, with two kelp fritters, still glossy with fish-fat, and a little milk-glass beaker that smelled distinctly of kelp-tea.
“Thou sleepest late, Philomena. I was concerned as I was told these are meant to be eaten while warm?”
Philomena blushed rosy underneath the rich freckles of her cheeks, “Oh, this is too much… Qalaya’s dirty fingers! This is Northy kelp, not like the stuff here!”
Semiyr smiled, almost laughed again, but the laugh did not quite form, “Well, I’m glad acquiring the import was not a waste, then.”
Minnie smiled, and pulled the desk over, picking up one of the fritters and nibbling a corner of it. She looked up to thank Semiyr properly, and stopped. Semiyr’s back was to her now. Something in her was wrong, something about the muscles of the tail, which hung too slack, or the tension in her wrists and hands. Minnie set her fritter down, quietly.
Semiyr’s wings moved with a slack tired waver, pulling her forward to the pile of cushions beneath the louvered windows. She flickered slowly to the floor - but not the cushioned side, to the bare floor, and leaned her head against the window.
Minnie spoke very softly, “Something is wrong.”
Semiyr started, and turned, her face flickering a kind smile, “Oh, I’m sorry, preoccupied, that’s all, my Qalayan.”
Minnie frowned, “I’m nae a girl, Semiyr. You dunny have to keep things from me.”
Semiyr’s eyes went down, and the smile softened, “I’m sorry. Thou hast sad eyes, I would not put more into them. A little sorrow, now and then, my dear one, that’s all…”
Semiyr turned back toward the window, Minnie, in her chemise, slipped from the bed, to move behind her friend. She cautiously touched her shoulder.
Semiyr took a deep breath, and smiled, but the sadness made Minnie’s heart hurt, “Hast thou been happy here, Philomena Geldscrier?”
“Yes! Yes of course! I… I have not… you ha’ made me a good deal more alive, I think,” the phrase sounded awkward in her mind, but she could find no better way to say it.
Semiyr was silent or a few minutes. Finally she spoke very softly, still staring out into the distance. “I went very early, this morning,” a half smile, “It was still dark, I would not even call it morning. I took the leeward passage around the spire, and the stars - oh the stars! Hast thou seen them so late? They are beautiful.”
Minnie nodded, softly, and moved her hand to run through Semiyr’s hair, “The night I came here, a woman took me from the ship, and out to a sort of play, under the stars, in the sea.”
Semiyr half-turned, “Thou sawest the Fiddler’s Lament? I did not know that…” she half smiled, “It is good. Yes, if thou went out then, you will have seen them, the stars. They are beautiful, over the sea, far from the other lights. Last night, the moon was young, and the stars were very bright. And I flew to the North, along the shore, to see the stars on the wave-tops.”
She sighed, and her eyes were glassy, “There was a stake there, in the stone, in a hollow rushing place, where the water pours in and sucks out to the sea quick and fierce. And the stake had a rope, and the rope was a sea-hanging. Hast thou seen one? Humans, I think… they lynch from tall trees. For my people, such a thing would not work. The body cannot understand, and even when they heart knows that it is time for death to come, the body rebels, in the ending moment, and struggles for life.”
Minnie was pale and cold, and her hands were tense in the woman’s hair.
“To die, then, one must circumvent the body, one must make it so that when the moment, the ending moment, it is too late for the body to rebel. A sea hanging is just so. There are such inlets, where the sea sucks with such violence, that the rope will go taut, and snap the neck.”
Minnie whimpered softly, “Oh…”
“I have not seen it, before. It is not pretty, the body swells with the seawater, and the tongue is heavy and black with pooled blood, and the face grows monstrous with the strain. He had… great raw patches on the skin of his face, I could not think why, until I saw the sea suck his body outwards, again - the rope whipped across the cheek, sharp in it’s taut strain, tearing at the flesh there.”
“Who… did you know him?”
She shrugged, and Minnie felt the trembled of her body, exhaustion and emotion, “We are not many, we Akvatari, and all come to the House of Lives Lived at some point, yes? I knew him, not closely. He was a good fellow - a chair-lift man, he hung himself by the cords of his lift, long ropes, made of hair, actually. I had not seen it before. They are beautiful, I wish I could have asked him about it before he died. He had been a beautiful boy, before this.”
Minnie swallowed hard, thinking of the chair-lift and its operator, of the long rope and the narrow wooden seat. Of his face, which she DID know, if only from that once. She had not seen him again - why had she not asked! Had she even wondered? To ask, earlier, someone might have found him, spoken to him, saved him…
“It was not so long ago, my Qalayan, when I had been ready to die. Not as he did, no, I… I would not wish to be found. I would drown myself, though it is a painful death, particularly for us. I had planned it all very carefully. It comes back to me, sometimes, that plan. Times like this. You will laugh at me, do you know why I pushed it away? Because I thought, ah! But there is good that I must still do, for my friend Philomena, with her sad eyes, I have—“ her voice caught, “So, I went and I bought these things. Kelp, and flour, and— Oh, I’m sorry, thou must forgive me, for saying—"
Her voice choked, and Minnie turned her around abruptly, pulling the larger woman’s head into her shoulder, to cry.
“Shh… there we are, love… there we are…”
She ran fingers up and down the shaking back, and sang very softly.
"Lullay, my sweet Lully,
See how close the sky has come,
Lullay, my sweet Lully,
And won't it fall on us soon?
And you and I
Shall softly lie
Beneath its awful weight,
Lullay, my sweet Lully,
But I shall hold you to my breast,
And raise my little arms,
And hold the sky from off you
So that I may sing a lullaby,
Before you go to sleep.”
x
She half opened a lid lazily, to see the shadow of Semiyr gliding softly back and forth in the room. Dressing probably. She reached a hand up to tuck a stray hair that tickled her cheek back into her short braid. She half stretched, feeling the sweaty crevices of her self unstick form each other with a pleasing languor, and rolled sideways, into the warm hollow between her pillows and Semiyr’s. The room smelled pleasantly of unwashed morning, and kelp tea.
Kelp tea?
She wrinkled her brow - that could not be right, but there it was kelp tea, and what’s more… a warm smell, oily and sour. She opened her eyes again, and pushed to sitting.
“I near thought I smelled kelp fritter—“
She stopped, abruptly. Semiyr was working a sparse brush through her wild hair, and turned with a half-smile. And there, on Minnie’s desk, was a plate, with two kelp fritters, still glossy with fish-fat, and a little milk-glass beaker that smelled distinctly of kelp-tea.
“Thou sleepest late, Philomena. I was concerned as I was told these are meant to be eaten while warm?”
Philomena blushed rosy underneath the rich freckles of her cheeks, “Oh, this is too much… Qalaya’s dirty fingers! This is Northy kelp, not like the stuff here!”
Semiyr smiled, almost laughed again, but the laugh did not quite form, “Well, I’m glad acquiring the import was not a waste, then.”
Minnie smiled, and pulled the desk over, picking up one of the fritters and nibbling a corner of it. She looked up to thank Semiyr properly, and stopped. Semiyr’s back was to her now. Something in her was wrong, something about the muscles of the tail, which hung too slack, or the tension in her wrists and hands. Minnie set her fritter down, quietly.
Semiyr’s wings moved with a slack tired waver, pulling her forward to the pile of cushions beneath the louvered windows. She flickered slowly to the floor - but not the cushioned side, to the bare floor, and leaned her head against the window.
Minnie spoke very softly, “Something is wrong.”
Semiyr started, and turned, her face flickering a kind smile, “Oh, I’m sorry, preoccupied, that’s all, my Qalayan.”
Minnie frowned, “I’m nae a girl, Semiyr. You dunny have to keep things from me.”
Semiyr’s eyes went down, and the smile softened, “I’m sorry. Thou hast sad eyes, I would not put more into them. A little sorrow, now and then, my dear one, that’s all…”
Semiyr turned back toward the window, Minnie, in her chemise, slipped from the bed, to move behind her friend. She cautiously touched her shoulder.
Semiyr took a deep breath, and smiled, but the sadness made Minnie’s heart hurt, “Hast thou been happy here, Philomena Geldscrier?”
“Yes! Yes of course! I… I have not… you ha’ made me a good deal more alive, I think,” the phrase sounded awkward in her mind, but she could find no better way to say it.
Semiyr was silent or a few minutes. Finally she spoke very softly, still staring out into the distance. “I went very early, this morning,” a half smile, “It was still dark, I would not even call it morning. I took the leeward passage around the spire, and the stars - oh the stars! Hast thou seen them so late? They are beautiful.”
Minnie nodded, softly, and moved her hand to run through Semiyr’s hair, “The night I came here, a woman took me from the ship, and out to a sort of play, under the stars, in the sea.”
Semiyr half-turned, “Thou sawest the Fiddler’s Lament? I did not know that…” she half smiled, “It is good. Yes, if thou went out then, you will have seen them, the stars. They are beautiful, over the sea, far from the other lights. Last night, the moon was young, and the stars were very bright. And I flew to the North, along the shore, to see the stars on the wave-tops.”
She sighed, and her eyes were glassy, “There was a stake there, in the stone, in a hollow rushing place, where the water pours in and sucks out to the sea quick and fierce. And the stake had a rope, and the rope was a sea-hanging. Hast thou seen one? Humans, I think… they lynch from tall trees. For my people, such a thing would not work. The body cannot understand, and even when they heart knows that it is time for death to come, the body rebels, in the ending moment, and struggles for life.”
Minnie was pale and cold, and her hands were tense in the woman’s hair.
“To die, then, one must circumvent the body, one must make it so that when the moment, the ending moment, it is too late for the body to rebel. A sea hanging is just so. There are such inlets, where the sea sucks with such violence, that the rope will go taut, and snap the neck.”
Minnie whimpered softly, “Oh…”
“I have not seen it, before. It is not pretty, the body swells with the seawater, and the tongue is heavy and black with pooled blood, and the face grows monstrous with the strain. He had… great raw patches on the skin of his face, I could not think why, until I saw the sea suck his body outwards, again - the rope whipped across the cheek, sharp in it’s taut strain, tearing at the flesh there.”
“Who… did you know him?”
She shrugged, and Minnie felt the trembled of her body, exhaustion and emotion, “We are not many, we Akvatari, and all come to the House of Lives Lived at some point, yes? I knew him, not closely. He was a good fellow - a chair-lift man, he hung himself by the cords of his lift, long ropes, made of hair, actually. I had not seen it before. They are beautiful, I wish I could have asked him about it before he died. He had been a beautiful boy, before this.”
Minnie swallowed hard, thinking of the chair-lift and its operator, of the long rope and the narrow wooden seat. Of his face, which she DID know, if only from that once. She had not seen him again - why had she not asked! Had she even wondered? To ask, earlier, someone might have found him, spoken to him, saved him…
“It was not so long ago, my Qalayan, when I had been ready to die. Not as he did, no, I… I would not wish to be found. I would drown myself, though it is a painful death, particularly for us. I had planned it all very carefully. It comes back to me, sometimes, that plan. Times like this. You will laugh at me, do you know why I pushed it away? Because I thought, ah! But there is good that I must still do, for my friend Philomena, with her sad eyes, I have—“ her voice caught, “So, I went and I bought these things. Kelp, and flour, and— Oh, I’m sorry, thou must forgive me, for saying—"
Her voice choked, and Minnie turned her around abruptly, pulling the larger woman’s head into her shoulder, to cry.
“Shh… there we are, love… there we are…”
She ran fingers up and down the shaking back, and sang very softly.
"Lullay, my sweet Lully,
See how close the sky has come,
Lullay, my sweet Lully,
And won't it fall on us soon?
And you and I
Shall softly lie
Beneath its awful weight,
Lullay, my sweet Lully,
But I shall hold you to my breast,
And raise my little arms,
And hold the sky from off you
So that I may sing a lullaby,
Before you go to sleep.”
x